Still There
by jakelsx
Summary: .troyella. Somehow it got better.


**Still There**

At high school parties, you have to be careful.

Especially when the party is hosted by none other than Chad Danforth.

The beat of the music thumped in Troy's ears as he tried to find Chad. The basketball star had only been gone twenty minutes to go get water from his house and another twenty people were already passed out. You'd think Chad would have anything but liquor at his house.

As he made his way to the kitchen to drop off the two containers of water, he passed by a familiar lump of hair.

"Chad?" he called. He set the water down and pushed his shoulder revealing a very unconscious looking best friend. "Christ, you think after all the alcohol you've drunk you would've been immune to the effects by now." Troy was about to move on to pick out his other drunk friends when he noticed a figure hanging off a couch. "Gabriella?"

He hurried over to who he thought was his girlfriend of a year and a half.

Her eyes were closed and her mouth was hanging open. He remembered that she had told him she'd never had beer before. He also remembered how she told him that she didn't plan to get drunk any time soon. Ironic.

"We need to get you out of here," he whispered to himself, gently touching her face first. He picked her up bridal style and headed for the door.

It was weird to see Gabriella like this. It was like an angel covered in mud.

"Ugghh…" she sighed quietly in his arms.

He held back a smile as he softly put her in the passenger seat of his pick-up truck.

As he was driving back to his house (her mother was bound to be home; there was no way she would want her mother to see her like this) he couldn't help but to notice the small movements that were coming from her. She would let out an unsatisfied grunt and then reposition herself on the chair. Or she would stick out her bottom lip and clench her eyelids together.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter.

He had his share of being drunk. After how many years of knowing Chad, he was bound to get wasted some time.

Of course, that was all before Gabriella. When he met her that fateful night on New Years Eve, he felt like he wanted to be a better person. Just for her, you know? Then the winter musical happened and he felt this new feeling inside of him. It ate at his insides every second. It thrust him into her arms everyday. It was love.

He didn't tell her right off the bat. He waited. Maybe he waited a little too long. A summer with Sharpay transformed him into a different kind of person; the kind of person he didn't want to be after Gabriella. He lost her and something ate at his insides again and it definitely wasn't love.

Somehow it got better. Somehow. He didn't deserve her. Why did she come back?

--

At college parties, you have to enjoy yourself.

I mean, you're halfway to being a boring adult. Might as well enjoy what "umph" you have in you.

"Come on, Troy!" Gabriella dragged him out to the dance floor.

"Gabriella," he said in a serious tone. "Gabriella."

"Let's dance!" she said giddily, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Gabriella, you're drunk," he told her. He untangled himself from her arms and took her hand.

"Aw, come on you party pooper!" Her eyes were almost shining with all the spiked punch. Then she leaned closer to him so that her face was right next to his. "Or do you want to do this someplace else?"

"Gabriella, we're going home and getting you cleaned up." He tried to take her out of the small frat house. Why were they at this party anyway? She had one week at U of A with him and he chooses to go to one of Chad's fraternity parties? Troy wasn't even in a fraternity.

"Troy," she said like the world was ending.

Sweaty, drunken bodies swayed around them as he pushed through the crowd. Gabriella's grip on his hand loosened. "Gabriella?" She kind of staggered and then placed a weak hand on her forehead. He hurried to keep her balanced, to keep her conscious. "Come on, now."

He picked her up again, like he did four years before in high school and power-walked to his car.

--

Gabriella woke up reluctantly. One eye opened and then another. Sunlight seeped in through the barely opened blinds as she groaned. Her and alcohol did not work well together.

"Good morning, sunshiiiinnnee!" Troy called. She shut her eyes and groaned even louder.

"Shut up," she mumbled. She turned in the bed and put the blankets over her head.

"Aw, that's no way to treat your great wonderful boyfriend," he said, sitting down beside her.

"Well, great wonderful boyfriend, the great wonderful girlfriend has a headache right now and can't really think," she responded, turned back so that she was facing him.

"I'm sure you can think enough to graciously drink this de-hangover-a-fier I made you." He moved the hot mug in front of her face. She got a wiff of it and snorted.

"There's no way I'm drinking that. Plus, since when did you know how to make a de-hangover-a-fier?"

"I've been Chad's friend for years. I've been drunk and have had hangovers often enough to know how to get rid of them. Now, don't make me shove this down your throat."

Gabriella sighed, opening one eye tiredly at him. "If this kills me, I'll-"

"Come back to life and rip my balls off?" he finished giving a lazy sigh. "I know." She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth. Troy fed the spoonful of thick, brown liquid in her mouth and she forcefully swallowed. She was expecting to choke, die, faint, throw up… but none of that happened. Instead, she actually downed it. Troy waited a few moments and then sighed in relief. Gabriella's eyes widened.

"Was something bad _supposed_ to happen?" she asked frantically, quickly regretting drinking something Troy had made in the kitchen.

Troy shook his head, eyes glowing. "I'm just glad you're not dead."

"I'm glad I'm not dead too." She grabbed the mug from his hands and started chugging it. He stared, wide-eyed at her.

When she finished she let out a small, quiet, satisfied burp and excused herself. He stared in disbelief at the empty cup before them. "Didn't that taste bad?" he asked.

"I ran it down so fast I couldn't tell," she sighed putting a hand on her forehead. Then fear came into her eyes. "Why?"

He coughed. "Well… there wasn't enough ingredients for my official de-hangover-a-fier in the kitchen so I threw some other stuff in." He put his hand desperately on hers. "I wasn't going to make you drink the whole thing, I swear!"

Her eyes narrowed and her lips formed a thin line. "Troy…" she began. "I. Am. Going. To. Slaughter. You."

--

At wedding receptions, you have fun. No matter what, you have to have fun. Especially when it's _your_ wedding reception.

"Come on, one more picture!" pleaded his mother. Troy groaned and kept his arm wrapped around Gabriella's waist.

"Mom, you've got enough pictures to fill an entire scrapbook," he said. "Can I just have some time alone with Gabi?" Gabriella smiled softly.

"Alright, alright," Mrs. Bolton sighed. "But when you two come over… pictures the entire night." Mrs. Bolton then walked away, her camera safely in her hands.

"Finally," Troy sighed turning to face her. "We're alone."

"Not really," she countered playfully. "There are least fifty other people here."

"I only see you," he whispered to her.

"Come on, Troy. It's our wedding. The last two hours have already been caked with corniness. There's no need to fill up the reception with lines you got from the chick flicks I made you watch." Troy feigned hurt.

"You want me to just be blunt with it?" he asked sarcastically. "Fine." He intentionally raised his voice a little louder. "Gabriella, I want you to take off your clothes."

Her face immediately turned red as half the people shot their heads in the couple's direction. She looked around and then desperately buried her head into his chest, hiding her tomato colored face. Troy let out hearty laugh and put his broad hands on her shoulders. He gently held her in front of him.

She, indeed, looked beautiful in the wedding gown. It was white and it wasn't one of those frilly dresses you usually see. It was simple, silky even. Gabriella had put a hell of a fight to get this one over one Sharpay had chosen. The dress, however, highlighted her dark features: her eyes, her tied back hair, and even the mere tone of her skin.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he sighed. She still ignored his plea and kept her head down. "Aw, Gabrriieelllaa…"

When he pressed her back to his chest, he could feel her smile. "I knew you couldn't stay mad at me," he said triumphantly.

She snorted, creating a weird, muffled sound. "You loser," she mumbled. He laughed lightly.

When music started he stroked the bare skin of her upper back. "This is our wedding reception…" he started, "and we really can't stand here all day…"

She looked up at him. "Are you suggesting something?"

"I may be hinting that we should dance."

"Oh, right."

"You were hoping for something else, now?"

She blushed again. "No."

"We'll think about that later…" He took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

Unlike most parties they'd been to together, the music was deafening, the bodies around weren't sweating, and people weren't packed like sardines. Gabriella acknowledged this and smirked. Finally.

Then her eyes caught something familiar. It was a slender bottle, attractive, really with the rose wrapped around it. It had a smooth, almost clear liquid in it.

Her eyes then lit up.

Troy followed her line of sight and then sighed. "Please… no alcohol," he moaned. "You and alcohol do not go well with each other."

She flashed a perfect smile and his knees weakened a little. On her toes, she pressed a sweet kiss on his lips. "Please?"

She always played these tricks on her. These…unfair _girl_ tricks. He tried to look away and told himself not to stare into her eyes.

He miserably failed. "Alright, but only if you share," he said reluctantly. She kissed him again on the cheek and dragged him over to the bar.

Share my ass.

First she took innocent, sips.

Then it turned into chugging the entire bottle down.

Of course, she gave a satisfied burp when she finished.

She gave a drunken giggle and fell against Troy who graciously held onto her. "Gabriella," he said monotonously.

"Heehee… yeah?" she said, her voice wavering.

"Do I have to take you home drunk?" he asked. The back of her head fell against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.

She closed her eyes and put her hands on his hands resting on her stomach. "Yeah," she sighed.

He smirked.

She blinked heavily twice, "What are _you_ smiling at?"

"I'm just wondering if taking you drunk will be a good thing or a bad thing?" he said playfully.

She banged her head on his chest lightly. "You sicko."

"I'm your sicko."

She grasped his rough left ring finger. "Yup," then she laughed from the intoxication. "This thing here says so."

He only held her tighter. He felt her body gradually weakening. Her fragile form couldn't handle too much alcohol and you'd think someone as smart as her would've figured that out by now. But… no and here they were. "Wh-When are we gonna get home, Troy?" she yawned. "I'm tired."

"I know," he sighed. "I'll take you home."

That's they escaped their own wedding reception and Mrs. Bolton wandered around the entire grounds searching for the couple.

They had decided to hold their wedding in Maine, by the way. "It's quiet… calm…" Gabriella had said. Yes, it was all quiet and her constant need to throw up on the side of the road echoed through the forrest.

It was only a ten minute drive to the hotel but during that time, Gabriella's whole body almost crashed. "God, Gabs, I told you," he complained as she threw up in the bushes again.

She staggered back to him wiping her mouth. "Whatever," she groaned. "Let's just head back to the hotel. I feel like my head's being crushed by a hammer." She climbed into the car and immediately fell asleep. Her snoring satisfied his worry for her safety.

But it was no matter, he was still there.


End file.
